


Tyranny of Fate

by Doomkitty25



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-03-26 08:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19001707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doomkitty25/pseuds/Doomkitty25
Summary: Penny stomped back into the cottage with a basket and look of pure unadulterated horror on his face. Quentin had seen Penny scared, on more than one occasion, but this was a whole other level.Penny brought the basket over to the girls and sat it on one of the chairs, pulled the blanket from the top and they were all greeted by the soft squishy face of a baby. A dark haired, pale skinned, tiny sleeping baby.





	1. Rockabye Baby

“Quentin if this is some sort of fucking practical joke, I will gut you man.” Penny said as he stomped to the door. Quentin just looked after him confused as all hell, and lowered his book. He was literally doing nothing, unless you counted reading and occasionally running his fingers through Eliot’s gel free hair. Eliot was sat on the couch with him, his long lean legs stretched out and propped up against the wall, his head resting in Quentin’s lap. Margo was upstairs doing god knows what with Josh. Julia, Kady and Alice were sitting at the bar arguing over some piece of magical something. Eliot had been free of the monster for about 6 months now, and Quentin felt the need to be near him almost exclusively when he was back from Fillory. Q and Alice had quietly broken up about a month ago, realizing that they were just better as friends period, and everything was actually rather calm.

Penny stomped back into the cottage with a basket and look of pure unadulterated horror on his face. Quentin had seen Penny scared, on more than one occasion, but this was a whole other level. 

Penny brought the basket over to the girls and sat it on one of the chairs, pulled the blanket from the top and they were all greeted by the soft squishy face of a baby. A dark haired, pale skinned, tiny sleeping baby.

Quentin gripped Eliot’s hair just a little tighter and gave a small tug. Eliot hmmmed at him lethargically, but turned his head to look at what was disturbing Quentin.

“So what the fuck do we do with it?” Penny asked the girls.

“Um never been around babies before. We should take it to the clinic, right.” Alice said looking around. Kady nodded in agreement….vigorously. 

“Odds are the longer it stays here the bigger its chances of dying are.” She said moving herself closer to Alice and further away from the baby.

Julia peered over the basket, “Did it come with a note?” she pulled the blanket back just a bit, and tried to move the baby. Big Mistake. It just started screaming. Julia snatched her hands away, but it didn’t help. Its arms were waving, and the screaming had devolved into wailing all in the space of 5 seconds. The four magicians around the baby looked at each other in pure panic.

Quentin looked down at Eliot just as Eliot looked up at him. They both snickered. “Should we save them?” Quentin asked quietly. Eliot shrugged.

“For the sake of that poor creature, I suppose.” He said as he rolled himself from the couch and stood. Quentin watched him straighten himself out a bit, and rolled his eyes when Eliot shooed Quentin towards the kitchen. Eliot made his way over to the basket with the child. Moving the others out of the way, he deftly lifted the child out of the basket, did a quick sniff check and a quick once over for any damage, determined nothing was amiss, and promptly cradled the baby in his arms like a motherfucking professional. The baby responded immediately settling down and snuggling closer to Eliot, grabbing at the buttons on his vest in his small tiny fists. Eliot ignored all of the shocked looks from his friends, pivoted on his heels, and followed Quentin into the kitchen.

“Q are the towels from the nature kids still in the upstairs linen closet? Also have we still got an active portal to downtown near that one grocery store?” He asked as he walked up behind Quentin and reached over his head to pull a  milk frother from a cabinet too high for Quentin to reach.

Quentin hmmed at him, “Yeah I think so on the linen closet, not sure about the portal. You want me to make the list?” Eliot nodded at him, and Quentin grabbed the frother, moving to put the bowls he’d grabbed on the counter. He opened the fridge door, and looked closely at what they had.

“Peas you think, or maybe some banana?” Eliot bounced the baby gently and let the little thing gnaw on his long fingers, as he pondered Quentin’s question. He made a grab for the bananas. 

“Here, let me, you’re better at this part.” Quentin pulled the baby from Eliot’s arms, he cradled him and rubbed his tummy smiling at the gurgling noises from the child, while Eliot started peeling the bananas. Quentin pulled back the blanket a bit just to make sure he was actually handling a baby boy, and to double check that there were no obvious injuries. Eliot would have said, but he wanted to be sure. The little thing was just as happy as could be, waving its little hands trying to grab at Quentin’s hair.

He turned around and found all of their friends with equal looks of consternation on their faces. Alice and Kady both almost started to say something but stopped as they watched him move around Eliot in the kitchen. Their long ago system for managing Teddy came back easily, and Quentin handed Eliot the things he needed to make baby food for the tiny little bundle.

Penny was the one that finally broke the tense silence. “You motherfuckers are just full of surprises. How the hell do you even know what to do with a fucking BABY!” All four of them turned to stare at each other, confusion clearly written all over their faces.

“Yeah Q, I mean you’ve never been bad with kids or anything, but you’ve never been around them either. I don’t know about Eliot, but this just seems..well...weird.” Julia said quizzically. 

Quentin rolled his eyes. “Not really important right now. Kady you and Alice work on figuring out who this kid belongs to and how it got here. Julia I’m going to make a list of all the shit we need to take care of this little guy. Can you and Penny go pick up the things we need?”

“I think it’s pretty fucking important that you and Eliot are like the literal poster for parenthood right now.” Penny said petulantly. Everyone ignored him. Kady and Alice were happy to get out of the cottage and begin the investigation into where the kid came from. Julia was confused, but happy to help.

“Yeah we can go grab whatever you put on the list. Should we take him to the clinic like Alice suggested?” Julia asked.

“We will after we feed him.” Quentin said reassuringly. Julia nodded and went to find a pen and paper for Q to write down everything he needed.

Eliot was just about finished mashing the banana and milk into baby food, so Quentin took the time to investigate the basket the baby had been in a little more thoroughly. There was some kind of spell residue on the basket, he sent a quick text to Kady to let her know they needed to go over the basket. Julia came back in the room and sat down. “Tell me what you need.”

“Formula, diapers, bottles, bottle cleaner, clothes.” Quentin listed off, then Eliot piped in.

“Lotion, shampoo, a couple of noisy toys, bibs like so many bibs and burping cloths, oh and like ointment and stuff.” Julia’s eyes were wide but she quickly wrote everything down. Eliot trailed off as he went upstairs to grab the towels the nature kids had left. They were soft enough that they could use them to wipe up any mess on the baby without hurting the baby’s skin. When he came back down, he made his way over to Quentin. “Couch?”

Quentin nodded and sat down on the couch. Eliot had found a small caviar spoon somewhere, and put the food in a tiny bowl before he sat down with Quentin on the couch. “Did you find a name in the basket?” He asked Quentin as he brought a spoonful of banana to the baby’s mouth. Quentin shook his head and softly stroked the baby’s back as Eliot patiently waited for the baby to decide whether he liked the banana. A soft gurgle escaped the baby as he smacked the banana and swallowed. Bouncing him a little the boy giggled and wiggled his arms clearly excited for more. Eliot smiled softly and placed one of the towels over the baby’s chest.

“How old is he, do you know?” Julia asked, a little unnerved by the quiet bubble that Eliot and Quentin had somehow built around themselves.

“I’d say not quite 1, about 7-8 months. He’s taking the banana, but he still needs formula.” Eliot answered. They watched Julia leave the room and head towards the stairs where Penny had gone to inform Margo and Josh what was going on. As she reached the top of the stairs they heard a shriek from Margo. They came rushing down the stairs, and Eliot sighed. 

“So who’s the baby daddy?”

Quentin rolled his eyes, “If it’s any of us we don’t know, there was no note. Didn’t Penny say.”

“I thought you might be hiding the truth out of shame.” She shrugged. “So Eliot, not going back to Fillory with us I presume.”

Eliot looked at Quentin, then down at the baby and sighed. “Afraid not Bambi.”

She huffed at him. “We going to talk about…” and she waved her hand at the couch, raised her eyebrow, and tilted her head.

Eliot tilted his head, shook it slightly enough that it was barely discernible.

Margo glared and twitched her hand.

Eliot dipped his chin to his chest and smirked.

Margo put her hands on her hips.

Eliot crossed his legs and put more food in the baby’s mouth. 

Margo shrugged, turned grabbed Josh’s hand, and took the portal in the living room to the Library so they could get back to Fillory. Josh shouted as Margo drug him away, "If you dudes need anything just let us know."

Quentin had long since gotten used to Margo and Eliot's unspoken communication. There was literally no telling what that conversation had entailed, but it was clearly communication of some kind. “Everything okay.” He asked curiously. Eliot was still feeding the baby small spoonfuls of banana. He'd taken a minute to unbutton his cuffs and roll his sleeves up. Quentin had to swallow back a moan. Jesus he thought. Eliot bent over him, his sleeves rolled up leaving his forearms bare, feeding the baby in his arms, was making heat pour through him in a way he hadn't experienced in years. The sight was a bit overwhelming.

“Sure, Bambi just wanted to make sure I was okay, and that I knew what I was getting into. You know standard soulmate stuff.” Eliot had changed a lot over the years. King had sat well on him, not at first, but he’d grown into it, just as much as Margo had. Since they’d saved him from the Monster, he and Margo had become even closer. Quentin didn’t know how that was possible, but it was very apparent. Eliot had been more than a little subdued after his ordeal, and Quentin might have been concerned but the change also pushed Eliot closer to him; and he couldn't deny that he was grateful for how often Eliot sought him out these days.

They had all hit a crossroads after the monster. Each one of them were dealing with their future by throwing themselves into their jobs. Alice was head of the Library, Kady was working with the Library for Hedge representation, Penny and Julia were working with the gods on the distribution of magic, Margo and Josh were in Fillory helping Fen build the kingdom back up after overthrowing the dark prince, Eliot was the ambassador for Fillory going where the others needed him, and Quentin was teaching at Brakebills. But of all of them, Eliot was the one that wore his experience like a weight. He'd always been prone to masks, but lately Quentin realized he was leaving the masks behind. Eliot was showing the world more of his self than he ever had before. It was small, but case in point, he'd shown up at the cottage that morning without gel in his hair, or a tie, or a jacket. Quentin wasn't sure if he should be happy about the change just yet.

Quentin smiled and turned back to the child in his arms. He was such a tiny little thing, and Quentin couldn’t help the fond memories that were resurfacing of his time in Fillory with Eliot. He tried not to think about it because it still had the ability to shatter him. Eliot had the good grace not to rub it in his face, and Quentin might wish they could talk about it, but he knew it would just lead to an unhealthy obsession for something he couldn’t have. Eliot gently ran his hand across the brow of the tiny child distracting Quentin from his thoughts. They were both so wrapped up in taking care of the baby that they missed Kady and Alice coming back into the cottage. Alice was the one who shattered their bubble with a pointed glare and a snap of her fingers.

“It’s not human.” She stated blandly.

Quentin and Eliot stared at each other in wide eyed shock. “What the hell?” they both said.

Alice crossed her arms. “Well it’s not like it’s easy to get into Brakebills you know. We found where the breach occurred easily enough. Fogg came with us, and he did a tracking spell, at the origin to entry he did a reveal spell.”

“Well it’s clearly not a fairy, or a dryad, or..” Eliot was cut off by Kady.

“He’s a hybrid, the child of an Incubus and a Siren, but most importantly he’s not from earth. We need to get him home. Fogg said that the baby would get sick if there wasn't enough magic around to sustain him.” She threw herself down in the nearest chair and tossed her wild curls over her shoulder.

Jesus Quentin thought. “How did he get here?”

“To be honest, we think something was trying to eat him, and his mother and father sent him here with something they summoned just inside the Brakebills boundary. The tracks show what we think are the parents leading whatever was chasing them away. Not sure even remotely why whatever they summoned brought him to the physical cottage. We’re hoping whatever is on that basket can shed some light.” Kady pointed in the direction of the basket intending to float it over, but Alice had already walked over to it and was performing quiet spells to reveal what was hidden. It took her less than a few minutes to come back with a foot long Peacock feather and a note.

_ “Former High King, I ask a favor. A week of protection for this child. Destiny is a tricky thing. I told you once that you were a good king, and that you would become a great one. You mastered the quest I gave you, with your other half. You succeeded, though perhaps not in the way you imagined and have become a great King. Together you revealed the beauty of all life. With great regret I must tell you that the darkness has become unbalanced. Though not at your request, I bestow upon you this quest. Know that the fate of the light and the dark are upon you both. You are two parts of one whole, I call upon that bond and ask that together you protect him. He is destined to bring balance.”  _ Alice read the letter and as she said the last word, it disintegrated into a beautiful golden dust. She looked at them both, with a clear question in her eyes.

Eliot grinned, then shrugged, “The Great Cock.”

Quentin laughed, but Alice let out an exasperated huff. “Are you seriously talking about your dick right now.” She was in no mood clearly, and watching Eliot and Quentin on the couch with the baby was pissing her off. Royally pissing her off, she may not be with Quentin any longer, but watching him slip into some domestic stupor with his best friend was grating on every nerve that she had. Eliot had always rubbed her the wrong way when it came to Quentin, mostly because he made it look so fucking easy, being with Quentin. Even if it wasn’t romantic, he orbited around Quentin effortlessly. When Eliot came into a room with Quentin, they just melted into one another. It was fucking annoying.

Eliot sighed. “The Questing creatures in Fillory, Alice, he’s one of them. He’s the only reason we were able to start the quest for the keys.”

“Well that’s not entirely true. If you hadn’t figured out the bunnies.” Quentin quietly stated placing a hand on Eliot's bare forearm, giving it the slightest of strokes.

Eliot gently squeezed his hand in acknowledgement, “You know what I mean. So he wants us to protect the child.”

“Absolutely not. We take the child to Fogg and let him dispose of it.” Alice stated harshly. “We can’t put the people of earth in danger from the child of a mythical…...”

Eliot didn’t even wait for Alice to finish before he was off the couch and standing in front of Quentin. “You will fucking not.” Eliot’s eyes burned with fury as he snatched the feather out of Alice’s hands, not really knowing how he knew, but knowing it was what he needed to do. Very gently he placed his free hand on the baby, and within a blink, Quentin, the baby, and himself were in the throne room of Whitespire.


	2. No One's Ever Gonna Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin and Eliot ask a friend for a favor.

Margo’s eyes went wide as she faced Eliot. Quentin was crouched down on the floor with the baby wrapped up in his arms, and Eliot was standing over them like an avenging angel. He’d been wearing earth clothes when she and Josh had left for Fillory, and usually he changed before he came back, but he was still in his black slacks, button down, and vest. Something had happened. She stood from her throne and pulled Josh’s arm to stop him as he started to go down the dais. Eliot was breathing hard, she could tell he was trying to get his temper under control. Eliot had the coolest head of anyone in her life besides perhaps Josh, so if he lost his temper something really bad must have happened. She didn’t want Josh in the path of that, so she went first.

Quentin rose from the floor at her approach. She didn’t say anything, knowing that her brashness might push Eliot over. Her laser focus caught the gentle hand Quentin placed in the middle of Eliot’s back, and the quiet sigh he let out, relaxing at Quentin’s touch. She did not resist the urge to roll her eyes at that, the two of them really needed to get their shit together.

“You good El.” She heard Quentin whisper. He adjusted the baby so its tiny little face was snuggled into his neck and rhythmically started patting his back.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Shit. I didn’t mean to...”

Quentin shushed him. “We were given the feather for a reason. If you hadn’t, Alice would have won any fight we started.” Eliot turned to face Quentin with a frown.

“A fight we started?” The question very clear in his tone.

“Well yeah, there’s no fucking way I’d let her hurt a baby.” Quentin was thankful the baby hadn’t been jarred by what happened, but he kept up the soothing strokes on the child’s back anyway.

“She thinks it’s a monster.” 

“You two motherfuckers ready to explain?” Margo interrupted. Josh came up behind her, deeming the situation calmed down enough that he could approach. Eliot gave her the sparknotes while Quentin looked around. Fen would be able to help with the baby, but they needed to get out of Whitespire. Eventually Alice and Kady would contact Margo or just make their way to here ready with questions. They needed to be out of range when that happened. Per the Great Cock, they only needed to stay hidden for a week, now they just had to find a place they could do that.

“You’re sure Alice used the words dispose of?” Margo asked.

“Yes Bambi, I know what I heard.” Eliot’s voice rose just the slightest bit.

Margo shook her head at Eliot, a clear indication she wasn’t questioning his ears, just looking for clarification. “Anyone know if Alice has some deep seated issue with Incubi or Siren?”

Quentin glared when they both turned to him in question. “How should I know, I mean it’s possible she ran across them when she was a Niffin, but she never mentioned anything to me specifically. Also is there some lore or something that specifically states either of the above are evil? Maybe that’s what she’s reacting to.”

Eliot shook his head, “Not that I know of.”

“And we’re going to treat the demon baby like it’s just a normal regular old baby?” Josh asked everyone.

“Yes Josh, until further notice this is a regular baby.” Quentin stated.

Josh shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Anything else after the baby other than whatever was chasing it and Alice?”

“We can figure that out later. Right now we should focus on how we hide from the best magicians in the world for a week, they’re our top priority?” Quentin said.

“Well they’re only one half of the best magicians in the world, and we’re in Fillory. We have the home court advantage.” Eliot says briskly.

Quentin stared at his best friend standing tall beside him. Eliot had favored dark colors lately, even in his Fillorian wear. He’d toned down the extravagance but not the luxuriousness, Quentin wasn’t sure if he should be worried about Eliot's diminished flair or not. Also, he still had his sleeves rolled up, and he showed no signs of being worried about it. Eliot pre-monster would have hastily fixed his shirt before anyone could catch sight of him, in a state that he would have considered disheveled. Quentin watched determination come over Eliot’s face, and he thought maybe this was a sign that he was in a better place than he had been in a long time. “They have a traveler and Julia, she knows just as much about Fillory as I do. Alice will make the leap from the feather to Fillory quickly, if she hasn’t already. We have until Julia and Penny get back from the store to figure something out.”

Eliot nodded at Quentin, “We’re the Kings and Queens of Fillory. The Great Cock wouldn’t have asked me if he didn’t think we needed to do this, so start looking in your ass, you need to pull an idea out of it. I’ll go grab Fen to put together some baby stuff for traveling, Josh food, and Margo you keep them away from us for as long as you can.” Quentin rolled his eyes heavily, but handed the baby over to Eliot, and they all quickly got busy with their tasks.

Quentin made his way to the library. He needed to think. Where in Fillory could they go that a traveler couldn’t find them, wasn’t mentioned in the Fillory books, and they could take care of a baby. He pulled books from the shelves at random, then threw himself in the closest chair. There were not a lot of options.

Quentin sighed with annoyance, the only thing he could think of was Loria. Maybe Idri could lead them to the answer. He headed back to the throne room, intent upon asking for Margo’s opinion, and almost ran into Eliot as he entered the room. Eliot sidestepped him and lifted the baby to his shoulder. Fen had provided him a cloth of some kind and he’d thrown it over his shoulder. Quentin couldn’t help the soft smile that came over his face. Eliot had always had a way with children, he didn’t seem the type upon first glance, but he turned to melted butter when tiny little people were in his vicinity.

“You found something, that was fast Q.” El said with a smile.

“No I didn’t find anything.”

“Well what are you doing back in here? I said ideas, your ass, you need to start pulling.” Eliot snapped his fingers in the direction of the hall that lead to the Library.

Quentin shoved him just a little, not enough to jar the baby though. “I didn’t find anything, but I had an idea, it was nowhere near my ass by the way, so get that look off of your face.” Quentin turned and faced Margo, “Do you guys think Idri would help us? Loria is relatively unknown by everyone outside of Fillory, I mean he might know of a place right?”

Margo tilted her head to the side. “No, he’s not going to grant a request from me. El maybe if you asked him as a friend?”

“Or maybe as a father, he might be inclined to help us protect the child.” Eliot said as he gently patted the babies back.

“Well get going you two. The portal is up and working, I’ll stay here and deflect.” They had set up portals between the Kingdoms some months ago, now that they were on peaceful terms it just made sense for their delegates to be able to come and go at will.  Fen came in the room with a large bag packed full for the baby. She handed it to Quentin and hugged Eliot wishing them both luck. The portal was in the lower courtyard area, and as they approached Quentin stopped Eliot.

“Hey El, I think you should do all of the talking.”

“Well yeah, that was the idea.” He looked at Quentin a little confused. Quentin just huffed out a laugh and motioned to the baby. Eliot’s eyes went wide and he grinned. “Right, you take the baby, it wouldn’t do to have him pee on me while asking a King for a favor.” He handed the baby back to Quentin and ran his hand across the top of his fluffy head. He ran a hand through his own curls, placed his other hand on the back of Quentin's neck, and they both stepped through the portal.

They appeared in the Lorian courtyard, guards posted beside them. Quentin for the most part ignored whatever Eliot was saying to the guards, and focused on the baby. He’d been quiet, just barely fussing, and Quentin was grateful. Eventually he was going to miss his mother, and the crying would intensify. Hopefully the Lorian King could give them a place to hide in enough time to get him comfortable.

They followed the guards into the throne room. Upon entry Eliot dropped into a low bow.

“Well if it isn’t former King Eliot.” Idiri said as they were escorted into the throne room. Quentin tried to stay hidden as well as he was able behind Eliot.

“Idri darling it’s been too long.” Eliot said in his sweetly charming voice. Quentin was proud of himself, he didn’t roll his eyes, and he only barely felt the urge. The mask was back in place, Eliot’s face like marble, as he played the part of courtly royal.

“What brings you to Loria?”

“I need a favor.” Eliot said smoothly.

“I’ve told you before Eliot, that if it...” Idri started but Eliot cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“I’m not here as a former King or even an ambassador. This has nothing to do with the Kingdom at all. I’m here looking for help from a friend, I hope I can still count you as such?”

It would never cease to surprise Quentin how closely Eliot could walk the tightrope of diplomacy. He watched Idri waver, but the man wasn’t easily swayed and he was all too familiar with Eliot’s shenanigans. His big shoulders slumped and he shook his head in denial.

“Eliot, you court danger beyond your ability to manage. Helping you isn’t something I can commit to, my people would suffer the consequences.” Idri said forcefully looking into Eliot’s eyes. Quentin frowned in response to the intensity of the look between the two men.

Eliot’s face tightened and closed off, right before Quentin’s eyes Eliot became someone he couldn’t read. Eliot gracefully bowed to Idri once again. “You haven’t even heard my request, your majesty.” He rose back up, his posture straight and the air of regal authority wrapping around him like a cloak. It was fucking impressive, and Quentin couldn’t help but admire him. “I’m only asking if you are aware of a place where two magicians might seek sanctuary to protect a child from magical forces intent upon causing harm.” Idri frowned once again, looking at the child in Quentin’s arms, but his frown was followed by a shake of his head.

Quentin saw Eliot’s whole body tense, and sighed, Eliot was working himself into a temper. He walked up behind him, placed his hand in the middle of Eliot’s back. “Settle down Eliot.” Q said quietly. Eliot whirled around, his icy glare catching Quentin, but Quentin just raised his brow in response. Eliot held onto his anger for a moment longer, but wilted when Quentin didn’t back down. “I might be able to convince him, but it will come at a cost.” Quentin said quietly, aware that Idri could probably hear them, but wanting the illusion of some privacy.

Eliot’s brow crinkled, and he leaned down just a bit closer to whisper in Quentin's ear. “What cost, what are you talking about Q?”

“If I play this card, you’ll never be able to marry him. It will be completely off the table. Are you okay with that?” Quentin asked hesitantly.

“Just him or anyone ever?”

“Just him, or well another King anyway.” Q clarified.

Eliot raised a brow at him, but shrugged. “If you think it’s the best play, and you think he can get us what we need, do what you have to do.” Eliot said confidently.

Quentin stared at him in awe, Eliot was the most practical fucking person he'd ever met; and, he trusted Quentin implicitly. It made Quentin want to work that much harder not to fuck up. “Here take Patrick.” He said as he handed the baby to Eliot.

“Patrick?” Eliot asked confused.

“We can’t keep calling him the baby.”

Eliot shrugged. “And you chose Patrick because why?”

Quentin laughed softly, “Maybe he’ll grow up to be a phenomenal dancer?”

Eliot grinned at him and kissed the top of the baby’s head. Quentin smiled and stepped in front of him so he was before King Idri, and made his own bow. “King Idri I wish to tell you a story.” His voice rang out clear and lilting in the throne room echoing on the walls and commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Quentin wasn't quite the showman Eliot was, but he knew how to tell a good fucking story, when the occasion called for it.

“I was not aware that you were a bard, you are King Quentin are you not?” Idri responded thoughtfully.

Quentin tilted his head in a small bow and with a tight smile. “Yes, but please allow me the honor of playing the bard for a friend to the Kings and Queens of Fillory.”

Idri nodded his head, a small smirk on his face, amused at the very least. Quentin wanted to remind him that they were here as friends and not ambassadors. “When magic was stolen from the world, High King Eliot sought the help of the questing creatures. He ventured into the woods fearlessly searching for answers to help his people against the infiltration of the Fairies.” Quentin’s voice mesmerized the court, as he recounted the tale.

“The Great Cock of the Darkling Woods was so moved by High King Eliot’s desperation, he honored him with a quest. Upon completion of the quest, he told Eliot, that no longer would he be a good King, but he would through the quest’s trials become a great King. High King Eliot bravely accepted the challenge, and successfully completed the quest he was given.” Quentin relayed the story with a steady intonation. Idri had sat up straighter in his chair, clearly listening intently to what Quentin was saying. Knowing that quests and challenges were sacred among the people of the kingdom, Quentin did his best to embellish the story for dramatic effect.

“This morning we were on Earth when the Great Cock of the Darkling woods bestowed upon Eliot a quest that he did not request.” Quentin said firmly, and just as he suspected Idri’s jaw dropped. He stood from his throne indignation in every line of his body. Eliot looked over to Quentin obviously confused.

“That is in defiance of the laws of Fillory.” His voice boomed across the throne room. “Questing creatures do not seek questers, that is an aberration.”

Quentin nodded gravely, “Nevertheless, Eliot and I were tasked with.” Idri waved his hand to interrupt.

“You said Eliot completed the quest before, what do you have to do with this?” Idri’s voice had gone cold and commanding. The King’s command wrapped around Quentin and he frowned. There was a magic in being the King of a country in this world, and with that magic came a certain amount of push in their commands. They didn’t force you, but they did have a slight compulsion in their commands to obey.

Quentin sighed, he knew he’d have to admit it, but he’d held onto a small sliver of hope. He quietly but firmly stated, “The Great Cock named me Eliot’s other half during the first quest. He and I completed our quest together. When he sought us out this time, he specifically said that the two of us must see this task done. We’re both needed to protect the child.” Eliot was getting more confused by the second. Quentin would have to tell him eventually that the Great Cock had all but married them when he named them two halves of the same whole. A King would never endanger his kingdom by marrying a man who was magically bound to another. Even if that binding wasn’t romantic, the risk would be too great for a ruler to tie themselves to a bound person.

Idri sat back down on his throne in a slump, and ran a hand over his face. “I see. I was only ever a place holder it seems.” he said so quietly Quentin barely heard him. “The Great Cock has requested that you protect the child, and as the laws of the quest are sacred, I will help you. You seek sanctuary for yourselves and the child, removed from the eyes of power. I can offer this to you. It is a sacred place among my people, you must swear that you mean no harm?”

Quentin and Eliot both swore.

Idri stood from his throne, and walked down the dais. He stood before Eliot, a complicated look in his eyes that Quentin couldn’t parse. He sighed and said heavily, “There is a doorway in Loria’s catacombs. I will personally escort you. Come.”

With that Idri stalked away and Eliot stared intently at Quentin, a question about what the hell had just happened bursting to come out. Quentin shook his head and lowered his eyes, he grabbed Eliot's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Later" He said almost imperceptibly, and pulled Eliot along behind him, following Idri to the Lorian catacombs.


	3. I'm Gonna Give You All Of My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first half of the week in the Sanctuary is full of revelations and cute baby giggles.

Quentin and Eliot stepped through the portal with Idri’s warning clear in their ears. He’d told them specifically that this was a small pocket world, home only to a small cabin that had been magically created for the first Queen of Loria as a gift from a traveling magician that had asked for sanctuary. The cabin had an endless supply of magical food, clothes, and toiletries, but little else. They had no idea what they’d be walking into. Quentin and Eliot started walking, they were surrounded by trees on all sides, and Idri had told them that the cabin would be straight north from the portal a little less than a mile. Eliot had handed Patrick off to Quentin before they stepped through the portal, and Quentin rocked him gently to sleep while they walked.

The cabin was gorgeous, red washed brick, pointed roof, and flowers everywhere there weren’t trees. They had walked into a goddamn Thomas Kinkade painting. “Very British nobleman, country chic.” Eliot muttered as they both stepped onto the porch.

Quentin noticed an axe buried in a stump not far from the house, and a chimney on the house meant if it got cold in these woods, one of them would need to see about firewood. They could probably spell something to heat the place, but sometimes the simple things just made more sense than wasting the magical energy. Quentin smiled imagining Eliot heartily disagreeing with that assessment.

Eliot shouldered his way through the door, and Quentin was very thankful whatever magic had created the place kept it clean and free of pounds of dust. The living room had a large comfy couch and a couple of chairs bracketing a huge fireplace in the dead center of the back wall of the room. Quentin looked around for something they could use to put the baby in, and grinned when he found a large basket with yarn and thread sitting by the couch. He emptied it, and put a couple of pillows from the couch in the bottom, and pulled a blanket from the bag Fen had packed for them. He settled Patrick into the makeshift bassinet and covered him with the blanket.

“We’ve got maybe two hours before he wakes up screaming.” Eliot said with a huff. “We need to get everything set up. Empty the bag on the kitchen counter, and I’ll get water boiling.” Eliot’s long stride had him in the kitchen and by the stove before Quentin had even put the bag on the counter. The kitchen was a simple galley kitchen, sink in the middle, pantry on one side, stove on the other. A huge square island that served as both a table with stools for chairs, and a food preparation area took up most of the kitchen. Picking up a convenient jug of water near the stove, Eliot filled a pot that he’d grabbed from the rack above the sink, and put water on to boil. Quentin was sorting through all of the bottles, towels, and medicines that Fen had packed. Eliot sat down on one of the bar stools by the counter and laid his head down on his crossed arms. “Q I need you to tell me we didn’t fuck up.” Eliot whispered into the table.

Quentin froze. “Of course we didn’t fuck up. We absolutely did the right thing.” Quentin said his voice steady and sure.

“Why do I feel like we’re missing something then?” Eliot asked, uncertainty dripping from his tone.

“I have no idea El. Why don’t you go take a nap, and I’ll get the bottles prepped and the food mashed.” Quentin said adding a gentle stroke to Eliot’s tense back. He was probably just exhausted. It had been a long goddamn day. Eliot nodded and headed for the couch, he picked up Patrick’s basket and brought it closer to the couch where he draped his long body across the over large cushions. He was asleep less than a minute later, and Quentin got to work.

 

###  **Eliot

Eliot woke to the sound of giggles and soft squeals. Quentin was on his stomach on the rug in front of the fireplace, playing with Patrick. Fen had packed some soft squishy toy shaped like a bear, and Patrick was happily giggling and gnawing on its ears while Quentin tickled the baby everywhere. Quentin’s hair was in his eyes and his grin was all over his face. Eliot watched them feeling the familiar ache of Quentin’s absence in his soul. If this was Fillory and that had been Teddy, Eliot would have risen from the couch and flopped down beside them with a kiss for each of their cheeks. But that wasn’t Teddy and this wasn’t exactly Fillory. Eliot held back a sigh and cursed his bloody minded idiocy for the millionth time.

Margo had saved him from the monster, but she couldn’t save him from the decisions that Quentin had made while he’d been possessed. Rekindling his romance with Alice had settled Quentin, Eliot could acknowledge that, but it didn’t hurt any less that he’d lost his chance. Eliot had known it was a possibility, but he’d promised Q bravery. Turned out that bravery was choosing to remain close to Quentin, supporting his choices, and being there for him as much or as little as he needed. Instead of hiding in Fillory with Margo he made his presence known, and didn’t deny himself the pleasure of his best friend’s presence.

Didn’t really stop the longing. He longed for the laughter that Quentin could bring to his life, **of** all the memories of Fillory, the pure unadulterated joy and laughter were his most cherished. They’d fought like fucking wild animals sometimes, they’d loved just as fiercely, and their family was the singular most amazing achievement of Eliot’s life. 

Quentin turned from Patrick and smiled softly at Eliot, “Finally awake sleepy head?”

Eliot groaned, he didn’t need soft cuddly Quentin right now. He needed some distance or he was going to do something all of them would regret. Even if Quentin and Alice were at odds over Patrick at the moment. Eliot scrubbed his hands across his face and winced at the stubble. He could definitely do with a shave, and he was also fucking starving. “I’ll get dinner started.” He said, his voice still scratchy from sleep. 

He watched Quentin’s smile slide into a frown, but didn’t stay to see what his attitude had wrought. He moved around the kitchen easily pulling ingredients out for a baked chicken and rosemary dish. The pantry had a very conveniently spelled ice cooler that had all sorts of meat. As he pulled out the chicken he began planning the rest of the weeks meals. Quentin wasn’t all that picky, and of the two of them, Eliot was the far superior cook. He enjoyed the almost mindless monotony of preparing a meal letting the familiar activity relax him. He surreptitiously glanced at Q while he chopped and stirred. 

Quentin had moved to his back and had the baby happily bouncing on his stomach. Eliot reminded himself that they were only here for a week. He could withstand Quentin fucking Coldwater for a week and send him back home to his girlfriend unmolested. Eliot had self control. He could resist. Easy. Eliot gripped the counter with pure frustration when Quentin started blowing raspberries on Patrick’s stomach. He bit his lip and drew in a deep breath, and had to clench his jaw to stop the whine that wanted to escape. That was just un-fucking fair he bitched silently. How goddamned adorable was Quentin with the baby? So goddamned adorable Eliot could feel his control melting with every innocent laugh that floated across the room. 

###  ** Quentin

Quentin covered his mouth biting back his laughter. They’d had a mostly quiet dinner standing in the kitchen, Eliot’s baked chicken making the small cottage smell so much like a home it made Quentin shiver with want. Eliot was currently standing by the kitchen sink doing his best to give Patrick a bath, but the baby was hell bent on splashing most of the water all over Eliot’s clothes. Eliot was mostly ignoring the flying water as he soaped up the child, but his wet curly hair was hanging in his face as he bent over the sink. His goddamn sleeves were still rolled up, and now he’d fucking untucked his shirt and opened his vest….and Quentin’s mouth watered. Everything on him was slightly damp, and a little shiny. The baby was funny and cute of course but Quentin could barely pay attention because Eliot was a motherfucking sex god standing in this cozy little kitchen, oozing his sleek disheveled appeal all over everything.

If this had been Fillory and Ted was in the kitchen sink for a wash, Quentin would have just walked up behind Eliot, wrapped his arms around him and removed his shirt to throw it in the wash basket. Then teased him mercilessly until the baby was in bed, and he was on fire by the time he crawled into bed with him and Arielle. But this wasn’t Fillory, and the baby wasn’t Teddy, and Eliot had friend zoned Quentin’s ass so hard he could barely get a sexy smolder out of the man these days much less sexy post bath teasing.

Every moment with Eliot after the monster had been so amazing that it took Quentin awhile to notice that Eliot had firmly placed himself in Quentin’s orbit, but he’d distanced himself in a way he’d never done before. He allowed Quentin to touch him, he didn’t seem to mind comfort or hugs, but if Quentin crossed just the tiniest threshold and their interaction began to tip towards the sensual, Eliot removed himself from the situation immediately. Quentin had never noticed how often that happened, until Eliot started dodging away from him. 

Eliot lifted Patrick out of the sink, and Quentin shook out a towel to wrap the baby up in, taking him from Eliot. He grinned at Eliot hoping to lighten whatever mood had been hanging over El’s head since he got up from his nap. It appeared to do no good whatsoever though, because Eliot just grimaced and pulled his damp shirt away from his chest. 

“I’m going to see what passes for clothes in the magical dresser. I’ll see if I can find us some pajama’s” Eliot turned abruptly and headed away from Quentin. He frowned at Eliot’s retreating back worried about whatever the fuck was eating at El. He turned his attention to Patrick, and put the baby down on the kitchen island so he could rub lotion all over him and wrap his bottom in a nappy. Satisfied Patrick was seen to, he wrapped him up in a baby jumper Fen had packed. Patrick was about done for, having been fed and played with to exhaustion, it was almost nothing for Quentin to rock him to sleep.

He sat down on the couch with the baby, and Eliot came back in the room, changed into a long black silk robe with matching silk pants. Eliot sat beside him on the couch and pulled the sleeping Patrick out of his arms, and replaced him with pajama’s he’d selected for Quentin. Dark blue cotton pants with a grey shirt, and Quentin almost laughed at Eliot’s thoughtfulness in not bringing a second pair of silk pajamas, but quietly muttered his thanks instead.

Quentin wasn’t ready to move so he just snuggled into Eliot’s side and ran his fingers softly over the crown of the baby’s head. In his head he just couldn’t imagine how anything could be better than this. Quentin needed Eliot in his life. For so long his purpose had been Eliot’s freedom, his hope had been Eliot’s survival, now he wanted what came after. He wanted the peace, the hand holding, the dreams, the fullness of his heart knowing that Eliot would be there with him through everything. They worked goddamnit.

He watched Eliot gently rock this child, and a fierce determination boiled in Quentin’s blood. If it was the last fucking thing he did, Eliot Waugh was going to wake the fuck up. He deserved happiness, he deserved to have his breath taken away, he deserved a goddamn real relationship even if it killed him. Quentin had backed off and let Eliot get away with running from him before. Well that fucking stopped right here. Quentin stood from the couch, determination building like a crescendo, and started to formulate a plan.

###  ** Eliot

Eliot blinked his eyes open, trying to rub the tired off his face. He’d gone to bed and Quentin had just followed him as naturally as you please, put the baby between them and passed out on his side, all before Eliot could even put up a protest. Not that he really wanted to. What he really wanted was to never leave this place, keep Quentin for himself, and raise about 3 more kids. His therapist was very adamant that he needed to live in the present, but acknowledge that he wanted a future and what that future might look like. He struggled to articulate this with her, though he suspected she knew. He insisted just feeling safe was enough for him for now, even as she shook her head at him. Feeling safe and content were not the only ingredients for happiness, even though he’d achieved both out of sheer stubbornness  over the past 6 months.

The sun hadn’t come up yet, so he wasn’t certain what woke him, but he slid gently from the bed careful not to disturb Quentin or Patrick, and made his way to the kitchen. Quentin had found coffee yesterday, but they’d be making it the old fashioned way, so Eliot put the water on to boil. A morning breeze ruffled his hair as he stepped outside. The moon was still visible in the sky along with a handful of stars. Eliot leaned against the support column for the porch and just let himself breathe, his black silk pajamas caressing his skin as the breeze gently batted at him. So intent on the freshness of the air, and the quiet of the early morning, he almost didn’t hear Quentin. As quiet and unassuming as Q could be, Eliot was always hyper aware of his presence, it shouldn’t have startled him to feel Q slide up beside him and wrap his arms around Eliot’s middle, but he flinched slightly. Quentin didn’t seem to mind, just squeezed him through it and nuzzled his cheek against Eliot’s bare chest. Quentin had never been a morning person, and there was every chance he wasn’t even awake now, wrapping himself around Eliot. 

Eliot brushed Q’s hair back, mourning the loss of his longer hair though six months had added a bit more length, checking to see if his eyes were even open….just barely could he make out Quentin’s soft puppy eyes squinting at him in the morning darkness. Quentin lifted his face to Eliot in a sleepy happy smile. Eliot couldn’t help but think it would be even better if it was a sleepy, happy, sex stupid smile, and sighed in annoyance with himself. He really couldn’t help it when his fingers just stroked against Q’s face, smiling when he tilted his head to nudge Eliot’s hands further into his hair. Quentin was a sucker for anyone playing with his hair, he turned into an affectionate little kitten at the smallest stroke. Eliot closed his eyes and hummed the chorus to Lost Stars from that cheesy fucking romcom Quentin had been obsessing over. Voice barely audible over the sound of nature surrounding them, Eliot softly sang “but are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark?”

They stood there under the moon, dew drops chilling their cheeks, Eliot stroking Quentin’s hair singing quietly, and Quentin wrapped around Eliot waiting for the day to break.

###  ** Quentin

Quentin wrapped his hand around the back of Eliot’s neck and stared into his eyes, “Calm the fuck down, we have a baby to take care of, I don’t care how pissed off you are at me, lock it down.” Quentin’s tone was his give no fucks, take no prisoners, do what I fucking tell you or you’ll regret it voice. Eliot responded with a choppy nod and a glare, pulling his magic back and forcing everything around them to settle. Quentin moved back. 

Eliot had picked black slacks with a deep green patterned button down shirt. He hadn’t put a vest on, but he’d tucked his shirt in and added a belt with beautiful filigree accents. He brushed his hands over his sleeves and down his chest, still clearly working through his temper. Patrick was napping in the bedroom, Eliot had found an actual bassinet in the closet and set it up for him.

Quentin watched Eliot pace around the room, and tried not to feel guilty for setting Eliot off. To be fair to himself, it hadn’t been part of the seduce Eliot plan that he’d been formulating since the day before, it was more like the opportunity presented itself and he’d just reacted in the moment. It was a shit situation, he shouldn’t have done it, and yup there was the guilt also the baby was apparently not pleased with Eliot’s temper tantrum. Quentin glared at Eliot and went to get Patrick so he could soothe him. He picked him up and patted his back and handed him his toy bear. Quentin could barely believe what had happened.

**30 minutes prior -**

_ Eliot had walked into the bathroom, and after waking up so early, Quentin had been tired. Pouring a bubble bath had seemed like a fantastic idea. Relaxing and remembering how sweet Eliot had been that morning, making him coffee, feeding the baby, tummy time and story time. He deeply regretted the impulse now, stupid fucking bubbles. Anyway, in came Eliot right as Quentin was stepping out of the tub his wet dripping self making the world's biggest mess, and Eliot froze in his tracks. _

_ Quentin had felt pure fire spread through his body as Eliot’s eyes raked over him with a look he hadn’t seen in so long it physically pained him, and part of his response had been pure instinct. This wouldn’t be the first time naked post bath Quentin had thrown himself at an unsuspecting Eliot. The only difference was this Eliot didn’t seem to want him, didn’t laugh with pure joy and take Quentin to bed. It was fucking tragic really. He’d pushed Quentin back like he’d been a particularly nasty poison, and stomped into the living room. _

_ Quentin’s own temper had sparked after Eliot’s response. He couldn’t understand what the fuck had changed. When everything was still so much the same for Quentin. So he’d thrown on his clothes and stomped out to find Eliot and force him to pull his head out of his ass. Only Eliot's magic had exploded. _

So here he was now, crying baby in his hands, and a pissed off best friend stomping around their living room.  “What the fuck is your problem Eliot?” Eliot was furious, he could tell that he was barely holding on to his temper, but Quentin had no patience for it today. He'd been in such a good place with sappy lovey Eliot, and now he had bag of dicks Eliot. 

“Problem, what is my problem? Since when do you fucking….” Eliot’s eyes sparked, but he caught sight of the baby and his face just took on a fierce unrelenting scowl. Quentin didn’t fucking understand. There was literally no reason for Eliot to be this pissed over a tiny bit of naked Quentin touching him. It was a pure overreaction that made no goddamn sense. There was not a single piece of either of their bodies the other hadn’t touched, so why Eliot was going all prudish best friend on him all of a sudden was a fucking mystery. 

He did the neck grab thing to get Eliot to settle earlier, but Eliot was working himself into another temper so Quentin whirled around to yell at him while keeping his hand over Patrick’s ears. “I love you, you giant dumbass, but right now I want to hit you repeatedly with a baseball bat and I don’t even fucking like baseball. There is literally no point to this, and I don’t even.” Quentin huffed and shook his head, too confused and frustrated to finish, but being sure to gently rock Patrick as his crying faded away..

Eliot threw himself on the couch. “We’re best friends Quentin, and I will not fucking tolerate you potentially fucking that up with side fucking.”

Quentin gaped at him. This stupid motherfucker thought Quentin didn’t want him forever and always. Jesus. Quentin decided to put that aside. He’d deal with it separately. “Eliot you can’t be serious right now. You literally just lost your temper over my naked body. That is the bigger issue. Our friendship has survived worse than a little nudity between us, hell I still speak to Penny and he’s the antichrist. You fucking lost it….” 

Eliot interrupted. “Fuck. I know. But, just to me….it is the bigger point. I’m not just attracted to you Quentin, I mean fuck you know I am. You’re a rock for me, so fucking important, not in a little way, but in the I would die for you kind of way. My family, I would do, well there’s not a lot I wouldn’t do. So this….what you did….was epically unfair.”

Quentin walked over to the couch, dropped to his knees before Eliot.  “You’re my family too, you dumbass. You can count on me, I am here for you always, and if you somehow think that’s not the most important thing to me then fuck you.” Quentin stood with Eliot as he got up from the couch.

“I’m going for a walk.” Eliot snapped.

“You do that.” Quentin watched him walk out the door and wanted to bang his head on the nearest flat surface. Motherfucker he wanted Margo so bad he could almost hear her insulting Eliot for him, in his head. They’d fought over worse, but Quentin still felt a weight in the pit of his stomach. Wanting Eliot to come back and wrap himself around him and the baby in his arms, was the worst kind of wishful thinking. He still barely understood why the jackass had blown up at him. He went back to their room to grab Patrick’s stuff so he could feed and change him. His happy baby smiles and bright little eyes chased away Eliot’s bullshit, but no matter how hard he tried, Quentin still felt low key sad.

###  ** Eliot

“I’m seeing someone.” Eliot said out of the blue the next day while sitting at the kitchen island watching Quentin prepare the baby bottles for the day.

Eliot watches Quentin swing towards him, dropping the bottles he’d been filling on the counter, his stare piercing Eliot a look akin to horror on his face. “What?”

“Fogg set it up, just after Margo decapitated the Dark Lord asshole.” Eliot was a teeny bit confused by Quentin’s reaction. Horror seemed a bit much.

“Fogg…...set you up on a date? Really?” Quentin gaped at him and Eliot laughed.

“ **NO** Quentin, god, he set me up with a therapist.”

“Shit, really.” Quentin paused and took a breath. “Um I didn’t know.” He responded his eyes wide, his words held a heavy dose of relief, that puzzled Eliot, but he let himself be distracted by Quentin’s wide smile, and his adorable dimples coming out to shine.

“Yeah I didn’t tell anyone else. Not even Margo, so you’re the first. Yay. Maybe I’ll eventually get all this fucked up under control” he said waving his hands toward himself and feeling just slightly uneasy. He knew Quentin wouldn’t care or anything, but it was still hard to talk about what happened with anyone. Possession fucked you up. Also fighting with your best friend fucked you up. He and Quentin had avoided each other for the rest of he day before, and Eliot had come back from his walk determined to ignore it. How Quentin could live in some fantasy world where he thought Alice would be okay with the two of them banging was beyond Eliot. But then Quentin always did see the softer side of Alice, Eliot knew it was there, but he also knew she would eviscerate him if he fucked her boyfriend. Again. Without permission. Again. Fuck.

Quentin stared at him intensely, but came over and wrapped his arms around him in a vice like grip. So distracted by thoughts of Alice, it took El a minute to remember what he’d said to Quentin. “I’m proud of you El, that shit is hard to do and it’s hard to keep at it.” He tucked his face into Eliot’s neck, and Eliot barely resisted the urge to kiss the top of Quentin’s head. It had always fit so perfectly just under his chin. Quentin didn’t bother to resist, but kissed his neck just below his ear and whispered gently “I’m so fucking proud of you.” Eliot froze, but released Quentin when he pulled away and went back to the sink to finish the bottles. He was glad he’d told him. Distracted as he was by Quentin’s praise and the quick kiss, he almost fell off the stool he was sitting on when Quentin blurted out “I started going back after Alice and I broke up. Julia actually helped me find someone. Most of the teachers at Brakebills have been seeing someone after the monster, the Library and just all the fucked up shit.”

Eliot nearly broke his neck he swung around on the stool so fast, his saliva was caught in his throat and his ears started to ring so he missed about half of what Quentin said after that. He managed to tune back in when Quentin said “Anyway, it wasn’t like we didn’t expect it, we’ve never been especially good together emotionally anyway, it was just nice for awhile not to have to be alone. Alice said it was the high from remembering what we were like when we were younger.” Quentin shrugged at him. Eliot wanted to yell, he wanted to throw things, he wanted to stick his head in a fucking blender. His body was vibrating with a kind of anxiety he couldn’t swallow. Alice and Quentin had broken up, and he hadn’t even fucking known. He drew in a deep breath to calm himself down. Think he thought, think, think, think. 

“Wow Q, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t, not at all, especially because Quentin didn’t seem that broken up about it. He just felt like a colossal jackass for keeping his distance out of respect for something that didn’t exist. He could have wrapped Quentin’s naked wet body around himself yesterday with absolutely no repercussions? Misery washed through him, quickly and efficiently shredding the defenses he’d built up over the six months he’d been free. With as close as he and Quentin were, how the fuck could he have missed this? Was he such a self absorbed piece of shit, that he couldn’t recognize when his best friend was going through a break up? “When did that happen?” He asked, dreading the answer.

Quentin turned from the sink, “Not sure exactly. Over a month or so ago I guess. To be honest we hadn’t seen each other but once or twice in the months prior to the break up. We just kept making excuses to not make it official.” He shrugged it off.

It was official, he was a complete jackass. But then Quentin hadn’t specifically told him either, so what the fuck was up with that. He frowned at Q, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Quentin sighed. “How did I know you were going to ask that. Honestly I was sick of Julia harping about it all the time, I mean none of them would leave me alone, but when I was with you I never had to listen to you tell me what I should have done differently, or how I should have acted differently. I mean I thought you knew because the other jackasses wouldn’t shut up about it. I was just grateful you left it the fuck alone. If I’d known you didn’t know, I would have told you sooner.” 

Eliot tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. He could feel the giddy joy overtake him. Quentin was free for him to take. He could have him. He dropped his chin to his chest and peered at Quentin. Oh he wasn’t just going to cock this up with a hasty fuck on the kitchen counter. He was going to do it right. Love confession check, candlelight dinner check, baby fed and put to bed check, Eliot continued to make his epic seduction of Quentin Coldwater checklist in his mind, and failed to see the gleam in Quentin’s eye spark at the realization Eliot had thought he was still dating Alice. 


	4. Your Life Ain't Gonna Be Nothing Like My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Quentin was about to fucking exploit the hell out of Eliot’s weakness. Grin sliding across his face, he whipped his shirt off over his head....

###  ** Quentin 

Quentin made very sure Patrick was well and truly asleep in his little bassinet before he made his way out of the cabin to the front yard. Memories of Fillory and his life with Eliot had faded over time. Remembering every day had been impossible even from the start, but he had 50 years of Fillory memories and over 20 years of regular memories, and a few in each life stood out. First grade, Julia and Fillory, his mom and dad, his marriage, Teddy and Arielle, Arielle’s death, Eliot’s death, Eliot’s possession, when he first set foot on campus and Eliot said his name, Alice’s death, Alice’s betrayal, the keys, the mosaic, and the axe Eliot had stuck in the tree near their cottage in Fillory.

They hadn’t needed to chop wood in Fillory, they just used magic to warm everything. So why then did they have an axe? Because Eliot, farm boy at heart that he was, bought one off a peddler in the village one day with a shrug and an offhand “we might need it Coldwater, don’t give me that look.” Quentin had loved making jokes about manual labor after the first “incident” and was flabbergasted that he hadn’t thought to use the axe thing immediately.

The incident occurred not very long after Eliot’s purchase. One day, Quentin so beyond furious at the world, the mosaic, Eliot, and just every damn thing, had picked up the axe and started chopping down a tree. By the time he was done they had a nice little pile of wood, and his anger had melted away into sweat dripping down his naked torso. Before the tree had come down, the heat had bothered him so much he’d stripped his shirt off. His arms burned and he was panting, but he’d grinned that day, more than a little proud of what he accomplished. Eliot knocking him to the ground had come as a complete shock. The splinters after, not so much.

Quentin could barely comprehend the pure fire that lit up Eliot’s eyes, but over the years he had just stopped questioning it. Eliot Waugh had a motherfucking kink for Quentin chopping wood. He denied it like it was a dirty, dirty, dirty farm boy secret, but he absolutely did. Eliot always waited until he was done. Quentin had to chop the wood with his back to Eliot because he’d almost chopped off his leg once while trying to stare at Eliot and chop wood at the same time. And Quentin, not sure how or why, but he could always feel every ounce of desire Eliot felt when the axe in his hands split the wood. Eliot would say afterward that they didn’t need to do things the hard way, but Quentin just shrugged at him. The memories washed over him, and he wondered if Eliot ever figured out that Quentin had done it on purpose after that first day. Every. Single. Time. 

And Quentin was about to fucking exploit the hell out of Eliot’s weakness. Grin sliding across his face, he whipped his shirt off over his head, and grabbed the handle of the axe.

###  ** Eliot

Eliot felt a fire ignite in his blood. Fucking Quentin. He’d had plans. He’d had dreams. He’d had specific fucking ideas of how this was going to go down. He’d spent countless hours planning. That was naturally before Q decided to pull this stunt. The man made him weak in the knees on a good day, but put an axe in his hand and Eliot’s whole brain turned to motherfucking jelly. 

It was a thing. 

In his own head he wouldn’t deny it, there was just something about a man with an axe. The swing of his arms, the sweat glistening on his skin, it all just spoke to him. Eliot had figured out it was also about protectiveness and providing, that axe in Quentin’s hands meant he was about to get shit done, and Eliot loved every hot sweaty second of it.  Therapy, that shit did wonders. And Quentin chopping wood was one of his best memories.

There really was no helping the situation, he stalked outside to collect his Q and drag him to the nearest comfortable surface. He walked up to him, made sure the axe was firmly lodged in the tree, and placed his hand on the back of Quentin’s neck. “Get inside, now.” Eliot said deeply and confidently, thankful his voice wasn’t as weak as his knees. Quentin didn’t even look at him, just turned towards the house and briskly started walking. Smart man. Splinters were a bitch to get out, even for magicians, and Eliot had zero reservations about stripping Quentin in the broad light of day right by the wood pile.

Eliot wasted no time following Q up the porch, and had Quentin’s body slammed into the nearest wall inside before he could even open his mouth to say Eliot’s name or shut the front door. Eliot was a hedonist, self proclaimed, he was neither ashamed of his body or the pleasure he derived from using his body. He’d had good sex, phenomenal sex, bad sex, mediocre sex, and every which kind of other sex you could imagine; but, there had, and would always be something about sex with Quentin Coldwater. He felt it in his soul. 

He heard a deep sigh and an “Oh my fucki…” and grinned as he slid his mouth over Quentin’s exposed nipple. Pulled off to give it a quick pinch and latched right back on, twirling his tongue around and savoring every gasp that came out of his sweet man’s mouth. Quentin’s hands were running up under Eliot’s shirt, tugging and pulling, frantic to feel his skin. Eliot sympathized, he had all of Q’s glorious chest to stroke and fondle, so he happily ripped his own shirt off for Q’s pleasure. He very badly wanted to press their naked chests together, he’d missed the feel of Quentin’s body invading his space, all warmth and honey under his tongue he thought as he kissed a path up Quentin’s chest to his delectable neck. 

Quentin had always been incredibly responsive and he loved to be marked, so Eliot got to work making sure his mark would be visible to anyone who bothered to look. He sucked Q’s warm skin into his mouth and worked it, licking and sucking until he’d bruised the pale skin to his satisfaction. Smirking at the bruise, he slid his hand behind Q’s neck  and pressed his mouth to Quentin’s. “Missed you.” He said between kisses, loving the sound of Q’s small little moans, and the wet slide of their lips and tongues. 

Eliot pulled back and worked his hands down Quentin’s chest massaging and kneading his beautiful skin, so intent upon getting Quentin’s pants off, he missed the wide eyed look Q shot to their bedroom door. 

He definitely didn’t miss the the breathy “wait”, Quentin moaned into his ear just as his hands were about to slip into Q’s pants and push them down. It took him a minute to actually process Quentin’s words, and when he did he jerked back. “What is it baby?” Eliot said with concern, desire deepening his voice to a hoarse croak.

“We have to stop.” Quentin moaned, in an almost wail of mourning.

Eliot was sex stupid. He knew he was sex stupid. It had been too fucking long since he’d had Quentin, and his brain was not at its best, so he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what the hell was going on. “What? Why?” 

Quentin grimaced. “We can’t have sex in here, we have to stop. Oh god.” Q moaned and slammed his head back against the wall, as Eliot kneaded his shoulder, his hand having found its way there with no thought from Eliot. “How could I be so stupid?”

Eliot was struggling. He wanted to reach out and pull Q into his arms and override whatever this was, but at the same time….had he done something wrong? “What...I don’t….Quentin baby I need you to use words.” Eliot was doing his best to reign in his overly dramatic emotional response, but if Q didn’t explain right the fuck now, he wasn’t going to be responsible for….

“Incubus and Siren. The baby has sex powers. We. can. Not. have. Sex.” 

Quentin’s words floored Eliot. Sex powers. There was a child in the house with sex powers. He knew that. They both knew that. But what the actual fuck? “Coldwater magic doesn’t develop until puberty.” He said as logically as he could manage. He put his hands back on Quentin’s waist, because he was clearly distressed, doing his best to stroke his sides to soothe him.

Quentin shook his head at him frowning in exasperation, “I know that dumbass, but I also know traumatic events can trigger fucking magic. His mom and dad almost getting eaten, and then having to stay with strangers, oh and then the strangers fucking in the same house as him, might incidentally be considered traumatic.” Quentin snapped. 

Eliot could feel his eyes go wide, well fuck. Q had a point. “Goddamn it.” Eliot moaned, and dropped his head onto Quentin’s shoulder. “Motherfucking goddamn it.” Eliot takes a deep calming breath. Another deep calming breath. Well maybe just one more…...Eliot groaned. “Okay, okay we got this, but you need to put some clothes on or I’m going to lose it. So I’m going to grab my shirt and take a walk, you make sure the munchkin is okay. When I get back, I’ll make dinner and we can just relax.” Eliot says all of this with his eyes closed as he reaches for the shirt he’d thrown to the floor. 

Eliot felt Quentin move away from the wall, he stroked a hand down Eliot’s cheek. “That sounds perfect, for what it’s worth I’m sorry.” he said apologetically.

Eliot huffed at him, opened his eyes and  grabbed Quentin’s hand. “Sweetheart nothing to apologize for, we weren’t  thinking. It’s okay, we have time. We’ll make time.” Eliot kissed Quentin’s knuckles and backed out of the house, mourning the loss of what would have been an incredible afternoon spent worshiping Quentin Coldwater.

###  ** Quentin

After the disastrous events of the day before, Quentin was doing his best to neither tease or tempt Eliot in any way. He felt like an asshole. He’d felt like an asshole yesterday and now all morning. Eliot seemed to be fine, and he wasn’t holding a grudge. They’d slept together in the same bed last night, peacefully, but he still felt like shit. Honestly, Eliot had probably been over it five minutes after, but watching the disappointment and feeling the loss of Eliot’s desire was, well a bigger deal for Quentin than he could put into words. He felt keenly as if he’d lost something. His brain just wouldn’t stop.

But then Patrick started to cough and all thoughts of seduction and his issues had gone right out the window. He’d been fussy the night before, but Eliot said the cough wasn’t in his chest. Now it was. He recognized the cadence of the cough and he could tell by the look in Eliot’s eyes he did as well. Croup. They hadn’t taken the child to the clinic before they’d whisked him away from Brakebills, and there was absolutely no telling what he’d come into contact with.

Quentin picked Patrick up and cradled him in his arms, pacing back and forth, worry coming off of him in waves. Fear so big he could barely stand it. Sick babies just about broke Quentin every time. Eliot came up behind him after a particularly nasty cough had wracked the little babies body, and took Patrick out of Quentin’s trembling arms. He waved to the bag Fen had packed, and Eliot started working some small healing spells to help ease the cough. Quentin rummaged through the medicines that Fen had sent, and even with Eliot’s attempts to comfort the tiny baby, wracking coughs and wheezing breaths were all that could be heard in the small cottage. 

Eliot had taken Patrick into the living room and created a small steamer to help him breathe easier, but the cough was definitely taking hold. Magicians couldn’t actually cure viruses, unless magically administered, they could offer assistance with specific spells, but Eliot didn’t know them and neither did Quentin. Not to mention they had no idea which virus it was,  and neither Quentin or Eliot was a healing student. Quentin paced and Eliot played nurse. It was a very familiar scene for them. Eliot could handle the stress of a sick child, he simply got down to business and took care of things, whereas Quentin couldn’t help imagining every worse case scenario from death to dismemberment. 

In Fillory he would send Quentin to the market to buy medicines when Teddy got sick, and the walk usually settled Quentin down and the task helped calm his anxiety. They didn’t have that kind of distraction here, so Quentin was working himself up, he knew he was, but he couldn’t actively stop it from happening.

Eliot had finally got Patrick into a good solid sleep, when it started. Quentin had decided to make lunch for the both of them, to keep busy but also because even if he wasn’t hungry they both needed to eat. Between one second and the next he’d dropped an entire pot of soup all over the kitchen floor. He didn’t know if it was the anxiety or the nerves or just his general clumsiness, but vegetable soup painted both the floor and the walls. All he could do was stand there and call himself every kind of stupid.

“Are you okay Quentin?” He heard Eliot ask, but he couldn’t answer. His chest was tight and he could feel his lungs begin to struggle. Tightness around his mouth signaled he needed to get out of his fucking head or this was going to turn into Eliot dealing with a panic attack and a sick kid. Deep even breaths. He could get his under control. He could guide his thoughts into a nice calm state, and everything would be o…..

Eliot broke through his meditation, the fear in his voice apparent. “I need you to be okay Quentin, baby I can’t….I just need you to be okay.” Logically Quentin knew that Eliot was scared. Dealing with a sick baby and a freaked out adult was a lot for anyone. But logic had no place in his fucked up brain today. Eliot’s words just triggered him, and he let loose. He felt himself crumbling on the inside, his walls buckling under the weight.

“You know what, Fuck you Eliot, Fuck you and fuck everything else. Who said we had to be okay, there is nothing anywhere said or written that explicitly states that we have to fucking be okay. You were fucking possessed and I had to babysit a goddamn murder monster that wanted me to play with him. You almost fucking died. I almost fucking died. Patrick might die. We don’t have a rulebook for fucking magical traumatic situations. So you’ll have to excuse me if I want everyone and everything to stop fucking faking like we’re all just fine because we ARE NOT FINE.” he says, like a dam had broken, like he can suddenly express things he had been trying not to say, but just couldn’t get out. A dam that Quentin didn’t even realize he had built up, was all of a sudden no longer blocking the emotions he’d shut down.. “I am not fine. I’m sick and fucking tired of trying to act like I am.” Then the tears came and Quentin dropped to the floor, completely and utterly done.

###  **Eliot 

Eliot very carefully crouched in front of Quentin. He was struggling for breath over his worry for Patrick, but watching Quentin fall apart was almost more than he could bear. Quentin was staring sightless at the wall his eyes glazed, and he wished like fuck there was some cure he could provide both the boys in his life. He waved his hand and stretched his fingers in a spell, cleaning up the soup before Quentin came out of his daze and got weepy over the mess. Touching him could go either way, Eliot knew from experience, he would either fall into the touch like a starved animal or he’d come out fighting like an enraged hellcat. Not wanting to disturb Patrick from his fitful sleep, he decided the no touch route. Which meant talking.

“Q baby, I need you.” Sometimes simple was the best method. “I don’t need you to be anything but what you are, but I do need you.” He said the words slowly, watching the film lightly fade from Quentin’s eyes. He repeated his words. Three more times before Quentin fully came back to himself. 

“I’m so fucking sorry, El.” Quentin jumped to his feet, frantic, but Eliot caught him up in the tightest hug he could manage. Stilling Quentin’s panicked worry, and offering as much comfort as Q would accept.

“No apologies sweet, the stress of this is not something we could have predicted. The quest, Alice, us, the baby, the sickness, it’s just a lot. We’re both fucking exhausted. We barely got any sleep last night. And it’s just a lot.” He stroked Quentin’s hair and ran his other hand soothingly along his back. Quentin nodding his head under Eliot’s hand. 

“What are we going to do?” Quentin whispered into Eliot’s shirt, clearly looking for his bearings. Eliot tried to give him some solid ground to stand on. 

“We need a healer, do you think you could make it back to Loria and request a healer from King Idri? I would go, but.” Eliot trailed off.

Quentin laughed a little wobbly, “No it’s better if I go. I might freak out, you’re better with sick babies than I am. Clearly. You’re better at most things than I am.” Quentin’s self deprecation, was one of the long standing battles between the two of them, as well as his bad habit of comparing them to each other without context. 

Eliot didn’t want to push the envelope too much after what just happened, but he also hated when Q talked about himself so negatively. He ran his fingers through Quentin’s soft hair and then put his hand under Quentin’s chin to lift his eyes so Eliot could stare into them. “Without you, there would be no me, so it hardly matters who’s good at what. Now do you remember the way to the portal?”

Quentin blinked at him, and opened his mouth in a way that Eliot knew he meant to argue, but Eliot squeezed his chin between his fingers. Quentin got the hint and sighed. “Yes I remember the way.”

###  ** Quentin 

Quentin walked to the portal, the way clearing his mind, and helping focus his thoughts. God why did he always have to feel like such an idiot after he stressed out, panicked, had an anxiety attack, or just generally existed in this world with a broken brain. Eliot handled it beautifully. Most everyone else did not. He was grateful, but he still wished like hell neither himself or Eliot had to deal with his shit.

He stepped through the portal and asked to see the King. the guard looked at him warily but took him to the throne room and upon his arrival he nearly sank to his knees with joyous surprise.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re the king of the goddamn world, you will tell me where Eliot and Quentin are right. Fucking. Now.” Julia screeched at King Idri as Penny 23 held her back and Kady stood in front of her with her weapon drawn.

Idri rolled his eyes when he caught sight of Quentin. “Fortuitous timing King Quentin.” Idri said with a wave of his hand. “Your friends are very near to starting a war. You should probably see to that; incidentally, if the traveler goes through the portal...war. Go away, you have 2 more days, and I could do without this bullshit in my throne room..” Idri’s booming voice echoed throughout the throne room. Julia had whirled around at his name and wrapped him in a bone crushing hug. He sank into her arms, grateful for the warmth and comfort she so easily offered.

“Thanks your majesty.” Quentin shouted over Julia’s shoulder as he started to back out of the room. Once in the hall he stopped and hugged Julia with all his strength. 

“Quentin where in the hell…” He shushed her.

“No time. I need your help, Patrick, the baby, is sick.” Quentin said. He turned to Kady and Penny who had silently followed them. “We only have a few days left to keep him safe, you can call off the search party. Everything is fine, but I’m borrowing Julia for a couple of hours before you go back to….well Earth or Whitespire or whatever?”  With that explanation he started tugging Julia behind him.

“Wait just a fucking minute Coldwater. You….”

“No time for your bullshit Penny, I’ll have her back soon. Just chill. Idri mostly doesn’t mind, but you can’t come with.” Quentin didn’t even bother to turn around, just kept pulling. Penny appeared in front of him with his hand up.

“Stop.” Quentin glared.

“Hey, Q came back from wherever just fine and Idri said it was a safe place.” Julia tried to soothe. Penny wasn’t having it.

“Dude, slow your fucking roll. You’ve got pits of despair level of shit rolling off of you right now. So she goes nowhere until you explain.” Penny snapped.

Quentin shrugged. “Patrick has croup, I don’t deal well with sick kids. I spilled soup. Eliot sent me for a walk. It’s just par for the fucking course inside my head Penny. So fuck off. Nothing is wrong with where we are, the baby is sick and we’re not healers.” Quentin had already started walking again and Julia followed close behind giving Penny a helpless shrug. 

Kady shouted at them as they stepped through the portal, “Don’t forget to tell him the legend!!”

Quentin heard Kady, but it was the last thing on his mind as he stepped through the portal with Julia, he just wanted Patrick better. He’d worry about he rest later. Julia gaped at the forest. “Wow it’s gorgeous.”

Quentin just nodded agreement and took off walking toward the cottage.

Julia stopped and pulled Quentin to a stop with her. “Q hold up, I need to talk to you about what Alice and Kady found out about the baby.” Quentin just shrugged her off.

“Okay but after you heal him okay.” Quentin insisted. Julia reluctantly nodded and followed along behind him to the house. Eliot was pacing the living room with a crying baby in his arms, and Quentin rushed to his side. He looked at Julia pleadingly and she motioned for Eliot to put the baby on the couch beside her as she sat down.

“Julia, not really what I had in mind Q, but good thinking.” Eliot said quietly.

“She was already with Idri when I showed up. Can you heal him?” Quentin asked.

Julia smiled her mysterious smile, “Yes, I should have him feeling better in no time.”

###  **Eliot

Eliot breathed a sigh of relief as Patrick fell into a deep sleep, his cough under control and his fever long gone. Julia did good work. They were sitting side by side on the couch, breathing through the stress of the day, when Quentin sat up straight and turned to Julia on Eliot’s other side.

“What Legend was Kady talking about?” He asked, and Eliot just looked at him lost.

Julia sighed beside him. “So Kady and Alice were working on figuring out what was so important about the baby right, and the week long protection seemed pretty damn specific. So they focused on historical events and such that were going down on day 7. Do you remember the legend of King Arthur?” She asked.

Eliot’s eyes widened. “Like England King Arthur?”

Quentin piped up, “Like united England, round table, Merlin, Gwenivere, and Lancelot, that King Arthur?”

Julia nodded. “Yeah so turns out your estimate of age might have been off, he’s incredibly tiny. He was malnourished and underfed.”

“Are you thinking the people who had him weren’t his parents?” Quentin asked.

Julia grimaced. “Yeah, we think they’re dead and he was being smuggled off of Earth. We thought he wasn’t from Earth because of the magic, but turns out we were very wrong. And that the 7th day may or may not be your little bundle in there’s first birthday. To be specific a year and day.”

“What has that to do with it?” 

Julia heaved a sigh. “Merlin. He was born with magic, but his connection with Arthur was forged on the solstice which was the day after his first birthday.”

“What the fuck?” Eliot sighed.

“So we’re pretty sure the baby is a descendant of Merlin and also a reincarnation. There are a couple of prophecies that Fogg found and few of the psychic kids at Brakebill’s are going off the rails.” Julia stood from the couch and started to pace around the living room.

“You’re telling me we are babysitting Merlin, the  _ actual  _ Merlin. Why the fuck would the Great Cock give him to us?” Eliot asked suspiciously.

Quentin gasped, and Eliot turned to him in confusion, but Quentin had jumped up from the couch. “Oh my god, oh my fucking god.” Quentin started chanting over and over. Eliot looked to Julia but she was just as confused as he was. “It makes so much sense.” Quentin was pacing, and Eliot stood to get his attention.

“Explain Q. We’re not following.” Eliot interjected.

“The Great Cock is bound by the magic of Fillory. Idri was right, giving you a quest like that is impossible, an aberration. He is bound by a specific magic, so to bypass that magic, to get around it something more powerful than the laws of Fillory would have to be in place.”

Julia caught on before Eliot did and her eyes turned to him big as saucers, eyebrows nearly in her hairline. “No fucking way.” She said in awe.

Quentin laughed, “I fucking know right.” He grinned at Eliot.

Eliot was confused as fuck. “What the fucking hell?”

Quentin laughed again, “Pretty fucking sure you’re related to Merlin. The only thing more powerful than Fillory's magic is blood magic. The Great Cock didn’t give you a Fillorian quest, he gave you a familial quest.”

Eliot’s eyes got wide and he dropped back down on the couch. “Not possible.”

Quentin giggled. “Julia can you do a blood spell to see if they're family?”

Julia nodded eagerly and began to move her hands, lightly intoning a spell, she spread her hands apart and golden mist appeared between her fingers. It turned a bright beautiful shade of blood red. “Well Eliot you appear to be a descendant of Merlin the motherfucking Magician.” Julia said with awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just getting way too long, so I added an additional chapter :)


	5. You're Gonna Grow And Have A Good Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot and Quentin are given another revelation, and there be dragons.

### ** Quentin

Quentin snuggled closer to Eliot under the covers, hiding from the start of the day. Patrick had been a bit fussy the night before, seemingly aware of the tension in the household from the fast approaching solstice. He’d managed to get the baby to sleep, but waking up every few hours left him exhausted. Patrick was fed, changed, and sleeping quietly and Q breathed a sleepy sigh.

Quentin didn’t want to wake up and deal with the gang invading their space. Julia had laughed maniacally at the news that Eliot was a descendant of the greatest magician in history, but had quickly started worrying about what the hell that meant. And who was the new Arthur? There were just a lot of questions. Eliot had been more concerned with who or what was trying to kill little baby Patrick. Julia had headed off to the portal, promising to bring back the gang, minus Penny, so they could get down to business.

She’d told them that Alice was incredibly sorry to have sent them running. Dispose had been a bad word choice, she’d only meant that Dean Fogg would give the child back to whatever world he’d been from, not that they would actually kill the poor thing. Quentin shrugged and accepted the apology, but he could see the hesitancy all over Eliot.

“We should definitely look into how or why a Siren and an Incubus sired a child on earth, and what that means for the prophecy. Also how the fuck am I related to a Siren or an Incubus?” Eliot shouted at Julia’s back as she made her way into the woods. She waved in acknowledgement and then disappeared into the trees.

Now the early morning light was filtering through their window, and it was fast approaching the solstice. Tomorrow and this would all come to a head. Quentin didn’t want to do anything other than wrap himself around Eliot and ignore the world.

Eliot was clearly not on board with this plan as he threw back the covers to get out of bed. “Nooooo.” Quentin moaned into his pillow, and he felt Eliot pause.

“Q?” he asked.

“Please can we just stay for a minute?” Quentin said quietly.

Eliot slid back down into the bed, and pulled the covers up over their heads. “You okay?” he said into the darkness of the blanket tent he’d created.

Quentin sighed. “Yeah, just don’t want to get up yet.”

Eliot nodded in the darkness and pulled Quentin into his arms. “A few more minutes okay, but then we need to get up and get ready for everyone. While we wait, why don’t you tell me about that spectacular performance with Idri?”

Quentin glared at Eliot, he wanted to relax, he didn’t want to fight. He sighed, Eliot did deserve an answer though, so he just blurted it out. “The Great Cock basically married the two of us when he said we were two halves of a whole. There isn’t a King or Queen in this land that would marry you knowing that you’re bound to me.” Quentin paused, waiting for Eliot’s response, but he didn’t really seem to be reacting.

Eliot snuggled down in his pillow, and said lightly “Oh is that all.”

Quentin grumbled, it was something he’d worried telling Eliot because he knew how much he’d loved being a king of Fillory. But clearly Eliot wasn’t going to make it an issue.

Eliot let them laze about, but eventually pulled Quentin out of bed and pushed him toward the shower. Under the warm water, Quentin felt his anxiety stir up. Eliot hadn’t mentioned anything about what had happened between them, he was playing the ignore game, but Quentin was growing more and more restless by the hour. He needed El to reassure him that this wasn’t nothing. It may not be exactly what Quentin wanted, but he needed to know if what he wanted was even a possibility.

Quentin struggled with articulating what he wanted on a good day. Asking Eliot for a relationship scared the living shit out of him because round one was the tragedy of his life, but he needed to know. Eliot had turned him down once, and there was every chance he’d do it again, but Quentin was hopeful. Something he hadn’t been in a really long time. He got out of the shower, got dressed, and went to hunt Eliot down. Finding him in the kitchen making breakfast was enough to put a smile on Quentin’s face and make him pause, but he stayed his course. Wrapping his arms around Eliot from behind, he pressed his face into his back, and blurted “What is this?”

Eliot laughed, “Eggs dummy, what does it look like?”

Quentin sighed and turned Eliot around. “This?” He gestured, his hand waving between the two of them. He watched Eliot’s eyes go wide in understanding. He also saw them shutter like he was pulling away, and Quentin felt a rock slide form in his stomach. Fuck he thought.

Eliot carefully pulled the pan from the stove and put it aside. “We’re doing this now, okay.” He heard him say quietly. Quentin felt a nervous sweat form on the back of his neck. Goddamn it. He should have just avoided the confrontation. He was pushing too hard. It was too much.

Eliot surprised him though, and pushed Quentin toward the living room. Quentin sat down on the couch and Eliot sat on the coffee table, and catching Quentin’s legs between his own. Eliot rested his hands on Quentin’s knees and took a deep breath. “I need to tell you how fucking sorry I am.”

Quentin drew in a breath. Trying to steel himself against whatever the hell avalanche Eliot was about to bury him under.

“If we’re going to do this. Me and You. Then you should know I lied to you. I lied that day in Fillory when I told you that I wouldn’t chose you or chose us. Indiana Farm Boy 2.0 has never been something I wanted, so that life in Fillory seemed super fucking surreal, but spending my life with you, is the only thing I’ve ever wanted that I’d destroy the world to get. So there’s that.”

Quentin gaped. He stared into Eliot’s eyes and felt his world shift. Anger was the first thing to wash over him, then the misery of the year Eliot spent possessed, and then finally irritation. “Goddamn it Elliot.” He glared, feeling the petulant child in him pushing him to just let loose and slap the shit out of the idiot sitting in front of him. He'd broken his fucking heart.

Eliot crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you expect, honestly Q, it’s a marvel I hadn’t alienated you already. I was scared shitless. You scare the fucking hell out of me Quentin. Losing you is as close to death as I could get while still walking this earth, and I couldn’t risk it. I didn’t understand that….shit” Eliot moved his hands to the table and leaned forward as far as he could go without actually touching Quentin. His voice was steady and strong when he said, “I’m sorry.”

Quentin lightly kicked his shin and laughed through the watery tears clouding his vision. “I kind of hate you right now.”

Eliot smiled, small and soft, and Quentin sighed at the simple beauty of him. Eliot’s curls were unstyled hanging down by his ears, he’d not bothered with any thing other than slacks and a button down. Barefoot and smiling, would forever be Quentin’s favorite Eliot. His fashion was like his armor, and Quentin had always thought if Eliot was willing to be artlessly bare around him it had to mean something. “You’re willing to risk it now? What changed?”

“I did. I wanted to be in your life, even if I couldn’t have you. It wasn’t enough that you were alive, I needed to be around you, Alice be damned.” Eliot said directly. He squared his shoulders and continued.  “Am I going to fuck up? Undoubtedly. And Fuck Q, I can accept failure, Fillory can attest to just how well I can accept failure, but I just can’t accept this bullshit where I don’t even try.” Eliot squeezed Quentin’s knee and pulled one of his hands into his own. “I want to go to my final grave knowing without a fucking doubt that I’m not a coward. I have made some absolute horseshit decisions in my life, but I’d like to think I can learn from them.” He paused staring intently at Quentin. “So that’s why.”

Quentin stood from the couch, removing his hand from Eliot’s. He watched a stricken look come over Eliot’s face and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Q please…”

Quentin rolled his eyes. “Shut up asshole.” He points his finger in Eliot’s face. “I’m really not done being mad at you. Seriously you are such a bitch.” Eliot stood and pulled Quentin into his arms. 

Eliot hmms “Be as mad as you want baby, I deserve it.”

Quentin pulled away from him and moved his hands in a nervous sort of wave, almost like he was about to cast a spell but nothing happened. He huffed, and began haltingly. “Being here with you...is amazing, but mostly I just...you're you.” He said with a frustrated groan.

“Well Fuck Coldwater.” Eliot started, but Quentin cut him off.

“No shut up. I’m not done. It makes this” another flick of his fingers, like he’s trying to cast a spell, but stops himself, “even more frustrating. You frustrate the hell out of me Eliot, you know you do. Don’t look at me like that.” Quentin sat on the arm of the couch and pulled one knee up so he could wrap his arms around it.

“You’re the person I want to talk to most. You are wicked, charming, sexy as hell, and so fucking mean sometimes I want to punch you.” Quentin said almost angrily. But he paused and in a soft lilt continued. “But you’re also so goddamn sweet and soft, like you literally melt into butter, and that feels like a secret I know that other people don’t. Hell even Margo doesn’t get this side of you, not fully. She gets relaxed you, pithy you, staunch supporter you, sarcastic you, but soft and sweet.... Fuck Eliot,” he said desperately running a hand over his face and through his hair. “That has _always_ been mine.”

Eliot made a soft sort of pained sound, and sat down on the couch next to Quentin. He laid his head on Quentin’s thigh and said softly, “I’d give you anything you wanted.”

Quentin just carried on like Eliot hadn’t said anything, “And then we get stuck here with a baby, a potentially traumatized all powerful world uniting baby, and it pulls back memories of how well we work. Then I remember every time that you claimed we didn’t um...work. So for it to be a lie, that’s okay I get that, but how am I supposed to trust you? I know you’re not trying to be a dick about this, but fuck, it’s a lot okay. It’s just a lot. And I want you. And I want this with you. I want you every day, with me, and you just seem like you don’t completely…or...well...I’m not sure what you want exactly.” Quentin trails off.

### **Eliot

Eliot wanted to throw Penny under a bus, and Julia under the stairs, and Kady through the door, and Alice off a building. Eliot was barely hanging onto his composure. Penny had breached the sanctuary, with Idri’s permission, and pulled Quentin, Eliot and Patrick back to Whitespire. Five seconds more and he could have told Q he loved him and he wanted everything Q wanted, but mother fucking Penny had interrupted and dragged them off to see a man about a prophecy because a horde of goddamn dragons had descended upon Fillory and Loria, and were presently burning the place down around their ears. Well the land anyway, they were suspiciously absent from the castle itself. And it wasn't just four or five of the fuckers, there were reports of thousands of the goddamn things. Where they came from? A mystery.

Alice had apologized profusely that she had drove them to escape her seemingly destructive desire towards the baby. She swore she had no ill intentions, and Eliot mostly believed her. She had graciously brought over the supplies that Penny and Julia had bought for the baby days ago, and had even played with Patrick for a little bit. Quentin had stars in his eyes, and Eliot wanted to slap him upside his head. Margo had found the prophet that was screaming about the end of the world and dragons and Merlin, and had him brought to the throne room where he was currently undergoing the most disorganized ridiculous interrogation by people Eliot reluctantly called his friends.

Margo was shouting, Alice was making the guy read books, Penny just kept slapping the guys head, Julia offered him tea...repeatedly, Kady was tapping a knife on the table in front of his face, and Quentin had the poor prophet guy repeat his story about 10 times in between Alice making him read passages from magic books. He was relatively sure Q had committed it to memory by round 3 and was just doing it to fuck with Alice. Everyone was sneaking glances at Eliot, Merlin’s descendant indeed, and he scoffed. He just wanted to go back to the little cabin and tell everyone else to fuck off. But he couldn’t. So he sighed and put his big boy pants on, and tuned back into the conversation…..argument…..fucking bitch fest.

Idri was in the throne room, so Eliot made his way over to thank him for letting Penny get them, even if he wanted to scream his frustration to the room at large. Idri smiled at his approach.

“Eliot” Idri said with a bow of his head.

“King Idri, thanks for letting Penny come get us.”

Idri laughed. “You look pissed. Not thankful. In fact, if I didn’t know how shit you were with a sword I might call in my personal guard.”

“Ha fucking ha.” Eliot rolled his eyes. “So what made you change your mind about the sanctuary?”

“Oh that was easy, the snippy little blonde said she could put a traveler trap on the pocket world which would make it impossible for Penny to get back without my permission. Easy enough solution.” Idri shrugged. “So why aren’t you in the thick of it with your entourage over there trying to solve the problem?” Idri said with a jerk of his chin toward the squabbling magicians.

Eliot cringed. “Honestly, I know my strengths, and this shit just makes me want to drink. Which I’m not doing anymore. Once they figure out what needs to be done, I’m there, but all this argument shit in the beginning” Eliot trailed off with a shrug of his own.

Idri laughed his booming laugh. “Advisers really are annoying little shits.”

Eliot grinned a smirky little grin at the implication that he ruled the group behind him. He was about to turn around and call them all his bitches, when the room came to a complete standstill. Nothing moved, nothing breathed, silence was a vacuum and Eliot whirled around to see if Quentin was okay. Everyone was frozen except for him, his brow furrowed with confusion. A wailing scream broke his focus and he took off running before he had even contemplated what he was doing. Patrick was all he thought of as he went flying down the corridor. He burst through the door of the nursery they’d prepared for Patrick, and his breath was sucked out of his body.

A grotesque nightmarish creature stood over the baby’s crib. Eliot would have said demon, if he wasn’t intimately familiar with what a demon actually looked like. This thing was like a Minotaur but with a rams head rather than a bull, and he had scales along his back dripping with black sludge. Eliot had no weapon and so he pulled his hands together to attempt a fireball spell, but they fell to his side as the creature picked Patrick up. Eliot felt helpless, there was no way in hell he could fight whatever the fuck had the baby, but he’d be damned if he’d let the thing leave. “Put him back you fucking bastard.” He shouted as he whipped his hands up again, and threw out a sleeping spell, followed by a stun spell, followed by a trap spell, but nothing was working.

Distracted by the monster holding the baby, he didn’t notice the glittering white dragon that crawled through the window until a booming voice echoed around the room. “Release the child.” Eliot jerked around to look at the dragon, more confusion settling over him but feeling the power of magic in the dragon’s words. The monster placed Patrick back in his crib, and the Dragon opened its mouth a lilting beautiful bell like sound echoing off the walls. Whatever the sound was, the monster in the room fell to ash.

“What the fuck.” He whispered.

A whirling magical golden dust filled the room, and no longer was Eliot staring at a dragon, but a woman. She stood at roughly the same height as Eliot with long pale blue hair. She wore what Eliot could only assume was dragonhide; it was a bodysuit of tight armor in the color of her white scales. Eliot glared at her as he walked over to the crib to check on Patrick. Dragon lady didn’t really bother him, it was par for the course in Fillory, but Patrick’s crying was making his stomach roll.

“Little magician” She said in a rather icy voice.

Eliot picked Patrick up to look him over, soothing the baby’s worried cries. “Unfreeze everything.” Eliot commanded without a glance at the dragon lady.

She waved her hand, and less than a minute later Eliot could hear Quentin shouting for him down the hall. He settled Patrick back in his crib, ignoring the woman, wondering just how long he could get away with it. Opening the door, he stuck his head out and shouted for Quentin to bring everyone.

“So, what brings you to Whitespire?” Eliot asks as casually as you please.

The dragon lady quirked a brow at him, then she dipped into one of the lowest bows Eliot had ever seen. Perfectly executed. Right as Quentin and the others came barreling through the door. Raising up from her bow she stated, “I am Lune your majesty. I am here to fulfill a debt to your ancestor.”

Margo of course had to interject. “Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?”

Lune never took her eyes off of Eliot, ignored Margo, and simply stood beside the window. Eliot sighed. “She’s a dragon Bambi.” He said over his shoulder to Margo. Turning back to the woman he said, “What debt do you have to Merlin, and can you do anything about your brethren raging on Fillory?”

Quentin had been inching his way around the room towards the crib since he’d come through the door. Now standing beside Eliot, he put his hand on Patrick’s stomach doing his best to soothe the fussy baby. He clearly wanted to pick the boy up and get him out of the room, away from all the drama, but Eliot knew he wouldn’t want to draw the attention of the potentially dangerous creature.

The woman gave a small incremental shrug, her hair shifting like wet ice across her shoulders “The dragons burning Fillory are remnants of the magic wars. I have no sway in these matters. I suggest you bring back the dragon hunters if you wish to control the skies and the fire. My debt to Merlin was a simple thing. He asked that I witness the oath, of the High King by blood, his new soul, and the wise fool, to the quest.”

Eliot sighed. “So you’re old enough to have met the original Merlin. You’ve been trapped with the other dragons for centuries, and we’re just somehow supposed to trust…”

“I do not ask for your trust little magician. I only seek to fulfill my debt. I am bound by the bond I made, and I will die if I do not comply.”

“Dude she’s a fucking dragon. Dragon’s are tricky bitches, no offense.” Penny said.

“You are not seriously considering this?” Julia looked at him and Quentin.

Eliot shrugged. “Honestly, I’d rather not, but if we want to find out what’s going on, this is our best shot.”

“What even is this oath?” Kady asked.

Alice piped in, “Think carefully about what she says.”

Quentin had picked up Patrick and stepped up beside Eliot, he tilted his head for Lune to deliver the oath.

Magic swirled around them, golden dust flickered before them, when a large resounding explosion shook the floors of Whitespire.

Eliot stumbled into Quentin, and shouted over the noise “What the hell is going on?”

Lune had braced herself, but it was no use, another rumbled and she was on her knees on the floor. “Fillory, all magical worlds, are dying. The solstice is bringing about the end, magic is” She gasped as another explosion rocked the floors. Penny had grabbed Julia and Kady and blinked out of existence. Alice was on the floor with Margo trying to hold onto the doorway that was shifting under their hands.

Eliot pulled Quentin and Patrick as close to Lune as possible. “Magic is what?”

“The gods would have you believe they created it. That they were the ones who allowed you and others the use of magic, but that is the boldest lie they’ve ever conceived. Magic was first. Magic created them. Magic is not theirs to master or control, and Merlin always comes when they need to be reminded, but he can’t do it alone. You must vow an oath of fealty to his cause, so that he may unite the lands of magic. This bond will stabilize the magic that created the worlds.”

Quentin shouted over the explosions and the crumbling walls, “What is his cause though, what are vowing loyalty to?”

Lune grinned, her eyes alight with hope. “Magic, my Kings, you are swearing your loyalty to magic itself. It is his sacred duty to arrive in a time of need, when magic is under siege, and the world rests on a precipice of darkness. Merlin rises to bring the gods to their knees.”

Eliot rose to his knees and pulled Quentin up beside him. “I’m in.” He looked to Quentin beside him, saw his shaky nod and turned back to Lune. “Go ahead then.”

Lune cast a spell that froze time, and with her sing song voice she chanted over the two men

“Upon this world comes a great darkness. Power rises from the depths and we must shape the future. I ask of you not to fear, not to falter, but dare to swear your soul to the hope, love, and strength that magic brings to the world. Swear unto the spark that you will love him, that you will guide him, and that you will serve the peace he is destined to bring.”

Eliot bowed his head, “I so swear.” beside him Quentin said the same words. The golden shimmers  in the air, frozen by Lune, snapped into ropes that bound Eliot, Quentin, and Patrick together. The castle did not stop crumbling, and the explosions did not stop exploding, so Eliot looked to Lune for help.

She grabbed Margo and Alice, both of whom were suspiciously quiet, and whisked them out of the crumbling castle. They appeared to be in some clearing outside the walls of the castle. Margo started pacing the minute they were outside. “First the dark lord, then fucking dragons and demons, now the world is dying and just what the goddamn fuck.”

Eliot sighed. They still didn’t know what was after Patrick, and should they keep calling him Patrick or was he officially Merlin now. Arthur would be needed at some point, but they had no idea who he was, and to top it all off Lune kept referring to them as kings, but Eliot was most definitely not a king. Lune, like she could read his mind, got up and brushed her dragon armor off. “We really must find the castle you know. Merlin will need his objects of power when he’s older, and if he wants to find Arthur the best way to do it is in the old castle.”

“You say that like we know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Margo snapped.

“Well I did say he’d be uniting all of the magical lands. The original magical world, Carmarthen, has been closed since Merlin’s passing. These two are both Kings by blood, not just in Fillory but in other realms as well.”

“What do you mean by blood?” Alice asked primly.

“Eliot is the descendant of Merlin, he is the heir to the magical dynasty that Merlin built.” Lune said like they were all idiots.

Alice rolled her eyes. “Yes we all know just how special Eliot is.” She spat. “What we want to know is how Quentin fits into the story.”

Lune continued to look at them like they were all morons. “Do you think the direct descendant of Merlin would bind himself to just anyone. That is absurd.”

Margo started to cackle, then Quentin’s eyes went wider than saucers, Alice and Eliot continued to glare at one another, no closer to an answer. Lune huffed a huge sigh, “Oh for the love of humanity, Quentin is a direct line to Arthur.”

Alice gasped and swung around to stare at Lune. “How do you know?” That’s not possible, his lineage has never been traced.”

Lune smiled. “Arthur wasn’t just a King of men, Merlin made him the King of Dragons. I would recognize my Kings anywhere.”

Quentin and Eliot both just stood there, too shocked to really say anything. Bless Margo’s brash bold soul. “So what you’re saying is these two fuckwits can get this whole dragon destruction rampage under control.” She said crossing her arms over her chest.

Lune shrugged. “Arthur did command the dragon hunters.”

“Excellent, you do whatever you need to do to get my kingdom sorted. Then you two asshats can go on your stupid fucking magic quest or whatever.” Margo started marching toward the outer village near the castle.

### **Quentin

Quentin followed Margo, Patrick….Merlin in his arms. He was overwhelmed. A descendant of Arthur. How was that even possible. And if he had the blood, wouldn’t other people. Why was Quentin the one?

“Eliot chose you.” Lune said from right behind him.

Quentin gasped. “You can read my thoughts?”

Lune’s bell like laughter floated around them, “No of course not, but you’ve the very same expression on your face that your ancestor walked around with near constantly. Completely baffled that Merlin thought him worthy, that Merlin would chose him, that Merlin believed in him.”

Quentin nodded, if Eliot and Merlin were anything alike, he could freaking believe it. “So how come you’re like a lady helping us out, and the others are burning us down?”

Lune sighed. “Dragons are intelligent creatures, and those of us that chose to follow Arthur and Merlin understood the stakes. There is always a faction that wishes for the destruction of the world though, and they brought dragons to their side. When Merlin banished them, he banished the dragons as well. The dragons destroying your world are the ones that did not follow the light.”

Quentin absorbed the information and followed along behind his friends. He had no idea where they were going, but he hoped like hell everyone else had made it out of the castle alive. “May I hold him?” Lune asked quietly. Quentin could hardly deny her, he could see the love in her eyes.

Eliot came up beside him and jerked him back from the others. At their questioning looks he just waved them on. “We need to have a quick chat.” was all he said by way of explanation.

“Eliot what’s wrong?”

Eliot shook his head and pulled Quentin into a messy, sloppy, wet, fucking beautiful kiss. Quentin was dazed, barely able to stand when Eliot pulled away.

“After this clusterfuck, just in case, cause it looks like our time is about to be sucked up by magical quests. I just wanted to tell you that what I want is you. Before Penny absconded with us earlier, you seemed to be confused. So no more confusion. I love you. No questions, no reservations, just you and me together until the end of it all. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Now, you want to talk about this now?”

“No time like the present! Well…”

“Um is this like a marriage proposal or something?”

Eliot shrugged. “Babe we’re already basically married, and we just bound ourselves together magically. This is more like a confirmation that we are in fact in a monogamous-ish relationship. Like I don’t fuck other people without your permission, you don’t fuck other people without my permission, and you stay the hell away from Alice.”

Quentin giggled. This right here. This was what he wanted. “For how long.”

“For fucking ever Coldwater. Don’t play with me.”

Quentin threw his arms around Eliot. “Okay, yeah that’s what I needed to hear. Me and you forever.” They still had a fuck ton of stuff to figure out. Like if their bond had stabilized magic, what was after Merlin specifically, and how exactly did Fillory fit into the whole uniting the magical lands thing. There was no telling just what the hell the descendants of two of the greatest legends in history would get up to with their reincarnated ancestors, but Quentin was absolutely sure he wouldn’t trade his life for anything. And he damn sure wouldn’t trade Eliot for anything. Together to the end, sounded just about fucking perfect to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and Kudos are always <3'd and appreciated.
> 
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